


You Make Me Strong

by kueble



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: But mostly fluff, F/M, Fluff, and feelings, and stabbing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-14
Updated: 2015-01-14
Packaged: 2018-03-07 12:10:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3173390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kueble/pseuds/kueble
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Evelyn is usually able to handle any problem that comes her way...</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Make Me Strong

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a brief bit of fluff and H/C to help cheer up my fiance. Thanks for reading!

The sun is shining brightly, and the air has less of a chill than usual. Normally the Skyhold courtyard would be full of people; soldiers hacking noisily at each other or Leliana’s scouts gracefully rushing from one tower to another. Today though, there is hardly anyone milling about. Evelyn can hear the steady thunk of Cassandra practicing in one corner, but the practice ring remains blessedly empty.

She figures the scowl may have something to do with it.

She grunts again as she swipes at the practice dummy, her daggers flashing in the sunlight. She’s worked up a sweat and there’s a pleasant ache in her shoulders. She tucks and rolls, taking out the dummy’s imaginary feet in a move that would bring a real foe crashing to the ground. Not missing a step, she bounces back to her feet and attacks it again.

“What did he ever do to you?” Evelyn hears from behind her. She spins on her heels and raises her daggers, bracing for an attack. 

“Bull,” she grunts in greeting, laughing as she sheathes her daggers. Sure, she’s jumpy, but this is just ridiculous.

“Seems like you should be elsewhere, Boss,” Iron Bull says with a smirk. Evelyn shrugs and he tilts his head accusingly at her. “Not usually one to avoid your problems,” he adds, his voice softer than usual.

“I don’t have many problems that I can’t solve by stabbing them,” Evenly admits, grinning up at him. “Suppose I am being a bit stupid, yeah?”

“Word around the keep is that Josephine had soup and tea sent up to your quarters. Perhaps you should see if that helped?” he asks. Evelyn nods and sighs at the self-righteous smirk that overtakes Bull’s face. He winks at her - which will never work like he thinks it should - and she walks off laughing. People move out of her way as she rushes up the stairway and heads towards her door.

The curtains are pulled shut, but there’s enough light that Evelyn can make out the crumpled form on her bed. She makes her way across the room, pausing to notice a half-eaten bowl of soup on her desk. That bodes well, but she still feels slightly off. She embodies so many things on any given day - Herald, Inquisitor, judgment of the Inquisition - yet here she stands completely unsure of herself. If she were anyone else, she would mock herself thoroughly.

“I’m awake, you know,” Cullen mumbles, shifting slowly on the bed. She cringes and leans on the edge of the bed for a moment before he sighs and raises the blankets. Taking the invite for what it is, she crawls onto the bed.

“I was just,” she starts before trailing off, looking at the bookshelves behind him.

“Just outside stabbing things because you can’t rid me of this headache in the same manner?” he asks, laughing softly.

“Perhaps,” Evelyn admits, suddenly feeling stupid. It’s just...this is new. She’s never cared about anyone enough to get pissed off when she can’t solve their problems. Maker knows, she’s never imagined that she’d put someone else's happiness above her own. Yet her she is, fighting imaginary enemies in the courtyard because she can’t help Cullen muddle through his withdrawal. Just seeing him shake, watching him unravel as the pain hits is all too much. She's stronger than this, yet somehow he makes her weak. It's the most confusing riddle she's ever been a part of. 

“It helps just to have you near me,” Cullen tells her as he holds gestures for her to come closer. Evelyn rolls over and moves so that he’s spooned behind her, his chest flush against her back. There's a warmth in his embrace, even thought she knows how worn out he is. 

“I don’t like being helpless,” Evelyn sighs. His arms tighten around her, and he nuzzles against the back of her neck.

“Your scent calms me. I know this is hard for you to watch, but I need to do this. Please? I haven’t had a day this bad in weeks. Just lay with me and help me sleep?” Cullen asks. She nods and can feel him grin against her skin. He presses a kiss at the nape of her neck, and Evelyn wonders how this happened to her; how this ridiculously wonderful man came to mean so much to her. And as his breathing evens out, she sends a prayer of thanks to the Maker for letting them both live long enough to get here.


End file.
